


Fantastic Eggs and Where to Find Them

by fluorescentmythicalbeastie



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, fantastic beasts and where to find them books
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 16:27:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9450278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluorescentmythicalbeastie/pseuds/fluorescentmythicalbeastie
Summary: Newt Scamander finds himself back in New York, in trouble with MACUSA once again. However, a certain MACUSA auror plans to help Newt on his mission for lost dragon eggs. On the way, both Newt and his companion, Tina Goldstein, learn more about themselves and their budding relationship. They're helped along by the comedic duo Jacob Kowalski and Queenie Goldstein.





	1. Back in New York

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter of a story I am working on. I have already crafted 7 chapters, so check back soon to continue reading! It's a Newtina fanfic (with dabbles in Jakweenie) but it also has a plot that will be followed closely.

“Welcome back, Mr. Scamander.” President Picquery said dryly. Newt Scamander kept his head low and his gaze fixed to floor. After all, this was a dire situation. Just three hours previously, Newt had charged the camp of MACUSA-hired wizards, jinxing and hexing as many as he felt necessary. In the very center of their camp was the sole reason for Newt’s daring attack—a beautiful Antipodean Opaleye, tied down with heavy chains and bound with ropes doused in poisons that scalded her skin. Newt suspected President Picquery wouldn’t hear his story and would imprison him if he didn’t play his cards right. He was no use to any creatures rotting in prison. Unfortunately, playing his cards right was one of Newt’s foremost weaknesses.  
“Is this really necessary?” Newt asked, jingling the shackles that bound his hands and feet. President Picquery’s scrutiny was smoldering, burning into Newt’s chest as if he were a real criminal.  
“You tell me, Mr. Scamander.” Picquery challenged, leaning forward in her chair. Newt shuffled his feet, wishing desperately that he could spread his cramping legs apart. At first glance, one might say that Newt needed a week’s worth of rest. His hair was plastered to his head in an unruly mess; his face was streaked with soot stains; an open gash zig-zagged across his left his eye; his leather boots were caked in sludge and a suspicious smelling substance (presumably dragon dung). Newt, however, was itching to continue. Despite his well-timed charge into the MACUSA camp, he was unable to break the enchanted ropes to free the dragon (he nicknamed her Smidgens). When his wand failed him, he clamped it between his teeth and resorted to his hands.The potions rendered his palms useless, burning his fingertips and scoring deep marks wherever it touched. He was tackled, gagged, chained, and hit over the head with a heavy log. He regained consciousness in the interrogation room. It was a familiar sight, but an unwanted sight all the same. Instead of Mr. Graves questioning him, President Picquery was doing the dirty work. No one stood behind him this time, either. Four months previously, Tina would have been standing behind him. At the thought of Tina, Newt felt a heavy weight rest upon his shoulders.There was no doubt that, as an auror, Tina had heard of his capture. He fondly remembered his farewell to her, as well as the promise to return and deliver his published book to her. He had dreamed up many scenarios during his many hours in his “briefcase zoo” (as his mother called it), never deciding on which one he preferred. The thought of returning in cuffs and shackles hadn’t crossed his mind.

“Mr. Scamander, do you realize the severity of your offense?” President Picquery’s voice broke through Newt’s thoughts. He blinked away Tina’s face, which had successfully broken through his mental barricade.“They were hurting the Opaleye.” Newt replied simply. He was used to these arguments, even in his home country. There would always be a chunk of population who never realized the value of the fantastic beasts that lived among them. Newt, ever since boyhood, had inadvertently dedicated himself to these beasts. He saved creatures whose homes were destroyed by muggles and magical people alike; he raised the young of parents who had been captured or killed. His manuscript, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, was published to educate the poor in knowledge. For two weeks, Newt tracked the Antipodean Opaleye dragon, recording her flight patterns and sketching. She was one of his own, even if she never spotted him. Then, Newt caught a glimpse of the weapons they’d use to bring her down…Tina will understand. The thought was unexpected, but neither sides of Newt’s conscience disputed it. Tina would understand—that, Newt was positive of. Could she possibly help Smidgens out of this debacle?

“I’m prepared to release you, Mr. Scamander, on the terms that you will never again interfere with a MACUSA operation. Is that understood?” Picquery’s voice was stony, yet it held a hint of smugness. Did she honestly believe she had conquered this magizoologist? Newt raised his gaze to stare back into her leer, equaling it with a look of defiance. Pure adrenaline was flowing through his veins, now. Picquery was taking her time of leaving the room, tossing remarks over her shoulder as she did so. “An auror will escort you from the building.” were her parting words before the door clicked shut. Newt didn’t have time to wait.

“Pickett, wake up!” Newt whispered loudly. There was a scuffling within the fabric of his coat’s top pocket. “Pickett, I need your help.” Newt was speaking directly into his coat material now. To his delight, the denizen of his coat, a spindly green bowtruckle, appeared. Pickett blinked lazily at Newt, obviously holding a grudge against Newt for their roasting experience.“I’m sorry about the fire, Pickett.” Newt said affectionately, wishing he could offer his hand to Pickett. “Pickett please…” Newt pleaded, his voice catching at the very end. Pickett begrudgingly accepted Newt’s apology before informing him of the chain’s enchantment. Newt was grateful for Pickett’s magical charm sensitivity. Had the bowtruckle attempted to free Newt, he’d have dissolved into a pile of shredded greens.It was several minutes of agonizing frustration before the sound of footsteps approached from the outside world. Newt was having trouble formulating a plan. He couldn’t concentrate when he didn’t have the use of his hands. To bridge the gap, he relayed his thoughts to Pickett, who thoroughly voiced his dismay in Newt’s ideas. Push came to shove when the door squeaked open and Pickett dove into Newt’s pocket, quivering in fright.

“Newt?” Until his name was spoken, Newt didn’t realize just how much he yearned to hear that particular voice speak it. Memories of December, 1926, came rushing back—especially a promise made before boarding a boat to England. Newt sought the right words to speak, but none came. Porpetina Goldstein stood in the doorway, pink in the face and visibly out of breath, clutching the key to Newt’s freedom. Also, floating alongside her was another great comfort to Newt—his briefcase and wand. Newt could do nothing but stare while Tina struggled to release him from his shackles. She released mutterings of concern and blasphemy for Picquery locking him up so tightly. Newt wasn’t used to the fussing and was relieved when his legs and hands fell apart from each other. He sprang from his chair, moving too quickly for his contracted legs to balance. Tina grabbed a hold of his coat, pulling him closer to her so as to steady him. He teetered on the spot, towering several inches over her. Newt let his eyes find hers,losing himself in their color.  
“Thank you.” he nodded, the corners of his lips twitching into a smile. Tina turned several shades pinker before she surrendered her hold on his coat.

“What happened to you?” she asked, taking in his burnt exterior. He sheepishly backed away, rubbing his aching wrists. He didn’t realize the extent of the damage to himself until just then. His trousers were ripped near the bottom and burnt in several places while his coat had full-blown holes singed through the fabric. Sweat dripped from his forehead and he was vaguely aware of the smell of burnt hair. Tina’s main concern, however, was the slash above Newt’s eye. She reached forward, gently tracing her finger along the tender skin of the wound. Newt wanted to tell her not to worry,wanted to tell her that he had looked worse before. The genuine concern in her eyes made Newt numb to thinking. Her voice, far away, told him to follow her. 

Newt became conscious again after meekly following Tina through several long corridors and two flights of stairs. They arrived at a long hallway with scattered doors on either side, marked with very important-sounding names. Tina stopped along a door marked Porpentina Goldstein, opening it wide for Newt. “Ladies first.” he said pleasantly, making an awkward motion with his suitcase. Tina flashed him a suspicious look before entering the office ahead of him. Newt followed behind her, desperately wishing to go somewhere where he felt at ease. Tina was already behind her desk, opening the drawer and shoving something deep inside it. Newt swiveled around,studying every corner of the office. Just like Tina’s personality, the office was neat and orderly with the occasional coffee mug that needed cleaning up, or a piece of paper crumpled and carelessly tossed into a corner. Bookshelves and filing cabinets lined the walls, ceasing only to allow the window to let in natural light. The coziest place to sit was the rug; the other only sitting furniture was as strict office chair. Newt drew his attention to Tina. He couldn’t help but notice the way her pastel blue dress perfectly complimented her complexion. She was sifting through books, scanning their yellowed pages for something of interest.  
“I have a remedy here somewhere.” Tina muttered. Newt stepped closer, peering over her shoulder at the potion book she clutched. “For what?” he asked innocently. Tina let out an exasperated sigh. “For you!” Her words startled Newt, who was suffering from a sudden bout of short-term memory loss. He became aware that a channel of blood had begun to form, traversing his temple and making a daring escape for his cheek.“I-I have something.” said Newt quickly, swinging his briefcase in front of him.It landed on Tina’s desk with a thud before he unclasped the top and swung it open. Tina instinctively took a step back, fearing a creature might make a reckless attempt to escape—again. Newt felt no embarrassment for the situation that took place four months earlier. In fact, he viewed it as a stroke of good luck! 

Newt stepped into the briefcase. It was second nature to compress his shoulders to drop neatly onto the floor of his workshop. Tina followed closely,her high-heeled feet appearing first before the rest of her body dropped in. Newt was already hard at work, shrugging his coat from shoulders, allowing Pickett to curl up on his shoulder and grabbing numerous jars from the cupboards that stuck to the wall overhead. He glanced up just in time to see Tina’s reaction of marvel, her eyes fixated to the rows of plants, jars and bottled remedies. (Newt had been hopeless in Potions class during school, but the closer Newt became to his lifelong passion, the easier it was to understand the properties of a concoction).  
“I forgot what it looked like.” Tina said, catching Newt’s stare. He paused from mixing his Murtlap liquid to look her over. They shared a content look before Tina produced her wand from her pocket and turned to Newt’s coat. She whisked it, muttering the incantation “Scourgify!” and watched as Newt’s coat became its pristine Petrol blue again. With an additional flick, Newt was gaping at a fully repaired version of his coat. “I was never very good at cleaning spells.” Newt confessed, cumbersomely returning to his Essence of Murtlap. Admittedly, Newt was attempting to rush. Despite the wonderful, cozy feeling he got whenever Tina stood in his workshop, he was still on a mission to help Smidgens. The sooner he was healed, the sooner he could rescue her. Still, adrenaline high was weakening. The pain from his wound was making him slightly woozy. It was when he overturned his hand that Tina saw the horrible state of his fingers and palms. They were smarting.  
“Newt! How did this happen?” she gasped as she lunged forward, softly taking his hands in hers. “Was it the dragon?” she asked quietly, giving off the first inkling that she knew exactly how Newt had been arrested. He defensively pulled his hands away and spoke. “No, it was the ropes they were using.” He felt like telling Tina exactly how it had been—how Smidgens had bellowed in pain as the rope’s liquids leaked between her scales, searing into her skin. He wanted to tell Tina how the burly men attacked her physically and verbally, spitting upon the legacy of Antipodean Opaleyes. He wanted Tina to understand that he was not the criminal, but Smidgen’s captors were.  
“Was it bad?” Tina whispered. Newt glanced up and saw she was very close now. She had taken the liberty of pouring some of the Essence of Murtlap onto a white bandage. Newt nodded sullenly, his pent up emotions bubbling closer to his brim. “Here…” Tina said gently, laying the soaking bandage across his gash. It stung at first, but immediate relief ensued. Newt blinked gratefully at her. He wondered if she had experience with treatment, seeing as she and Queenie raised each other. “I got this from a throwing knife.” Newt pointed a grubby finger to his bandaged slash. Tina’s eyes widened, but she said nothing. Newt cleared his throat and continued his story.“Igor Orgnuk, he’s a famous—” “Dragon hunter.” Tina finished in disdain, much to Newt’s amazement. Tina shrugged it off and hid her face behind the back of her hand. Newt smiled widely, delighted by her knowledge and shared distrust in Igor Orgnuk. “We should bandage your hands.” Tina said lightly. Newt retracted his hands and flexed them, ignoring the pain that shot through his wrists. “No, ah, I need them.” Newt uneasily rocked from his heel to his toe,clasping his fingers behind his back. “My hands—I need my hands.” Newt turned away from Tina and took a long stride to the front of the workshop,reaching into the cupboard that housed his papers. “I’m not staying—I mean, Smidgens still needs my help.” Newt stammered over the subject, fumbling with the papers he withdrew from the cabinet. Newt couldn’t see Tina in his peripheral vision and he didn’t believe he could bear her face. She must view him as a hypocrite, a leaver, a person who never took any regard for his own personal safety or the personal well being of others. Well, half of that is true, Newt’s conscience reasoned. Everyone thought this of him, so why was Tina different? Newt didn’t want to answer himself. He grabbed all of Smidgens paperwork, shoveling it together in a nasty mess. There was still a chance they were in the forest, attempting to wrangle Smidgens into the dirt. Maybe they already had her, but they’d have to transport her a long way. He could reach her!

“Newt. Newt! NEWT!” Tina grabbed Newt’s arms, efficiently putting a stop to his frenzied panic. His eyes ventured to hers, lingering only for a moment, but that moment was enough to melt him. She didn’t stare in disgust or anger, nor in fear for his life (as others often did). Her eyes were alive and burning with compassion, centered solely on him. The weight of this slumped his shoulders and hit him squarely in the chest. He took a step back, instinctively turning away from Tina. Would this be another frivolous exchange like the last time? The last time… Leta Lestrange… Newt squeezed his eyes shut. His mind was a simple assortment of gears, each one functioning properly if he was caring passionately for a creature or beast. Was he supposed to say that way? Tina sighed sadly, coming closer to Newt with foggy eyes.

“I’m sorry, but the dragon is dead.”


	2. The Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the discovery of Smidgens eggs is made, Newt decides to embark on an adventure to the mountains of Pennsylvania. Tina, however, has a few conditions on his departure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back with more Fantastic Beasts fanfiction (bit of a mouthful). More chapters coming soon, please leave feedback on how my writing is and whether or not you like the story (so far)!

Newt allowed Tina to side-along Apparate with him to the alley beyond her apartment. His hands were bandaged and his physique displayed the symptoms of sleep deprivation. Their feet slopped against the wet pavement; rain fell by the bucketful from the heavy clouds above. After successfully avoiding her anti-male landlord, Tina herded Newt into her apartment. He noticed too late that he was dragging two weeks’ worth of gunk across the clean carpet. Tina must have observed this as well, but said nothing. Perhaps she was pitying Newt for his loss of Smidgens, or mentally scolding herself for letting Newt into the apartment (Newt wished Queenie were here to help). In truthfulness, Newt’s heart was aching. He had lost many creatures before—each one injured beyond the help of any magical means—and Newt remembered them each by their names and traits. The feeling of loss wasn’t foreign to him by any means, but it still left a wound as fresh as any. He couldn’t decide if he wanted company or solitude. Luckily, Tina made the decision for him.  
“Why don’t you clean up, Newt? I’ll make something for us to eat.” Newt wondered if he smelled so bad that Tina was forcing him to clean himself. Still, he was grateful for an excuse to flee to his suitcase realm.

Newt took time to visit each one of his biomes, savoring each of the beasts that welcomed him collectively. He fed them their respective meats and pellets before settling down to bottle-feed Stewie the Marmite. Stewie’s tentacles swayed and tightened as Newt attempted to feed him. He broke free from Newt’s grasp and scampered away, easily traceable thanks to his luminescent body. Newt didn’t chase after him, however; he merely set down his bottle, wiped the slime from his hands on his trousers and sighed contently. It was bittersweet, but the time had come. Stewie needed a regular adult diet of crawfish and ocean shrimps until he learned to hunt them on his own. It wouldn’t be long before his release into the deep sea. Newt distinctly remembered Stewie’s rescue. It had been a glorious summer day on the coast of the U.K; children laughed and played in the water while their parents sunbathed and drank cool beverages. Then, three mysterious creatures washed upon the shore. Two were dead, one was barely alive. It was Stewie and his parents. They were a spectacle to all, especially the muggle newsmen who came and took a multitude of photos and videos. A resident wizard on the beach called the Ministry of Magic to remove them, so as to protect the secrecy of Wizardkind. Newt had his connections in the M.O.M and, luckily, he arrived thirty minutes before the Ministry workers. He respectfully disposed of the parent Marmites after settling Stewie in his new home. He was just a tiny paralarvae then.

Reminiscing on Stewie’s arrival brought more thought of Smidgens, rather than less. Newt left Stewie, aware that almost an hour had passed since he exited the Goldstein apartment. He felt slightly cheered, especially at the appearance of Pickett. Pickett wasn’t a fan of bathing. In fact, it was the only time he’d leave Newt’s side. He successfully shed the bowtruckle and strode to the back of his workshop. Newt practically lived in his briefcase. He had a trunk of outfits (each one decently identical to each other) and a lumpy sofa he used as a bed. After many years, however, he had not been bothered to install a proper shower. A garden hose was fine for him. The frigid water (it was rarely warm) washed over his burned skin and soothed his mind. He felt a great weight roll from his shoulders, shedding the emotional baggage he had picked up from the previous weeks. He scrubbed himself clean and managed to work the largest knots from his hair before dressing in a washed outfit. Despite his crisp appearance, he still felt exhausted. His workshop was in shambles, what with Smidgens’ papers strewn across the countertop and various herb pots knocked over. Newt straightened the pots and closed the cupboards before collection Smidgens’ documents into his hands. He felt something smooth pass under his fingers as he raked the papers closer to him. He cleared the counter, only to find his book winking at him. A pristine, unblemished copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, intended to be a gift, stared up at him. Newt tucked Smidgens’ papers under his arm as he ran his hand along the spine of the book. It was vibrant red with glittering gold letters and a shiny decal. This was the real reason he planned on returning to return to New York. This simple book, chalk full of Newt’s extensive knowledge of magical creatures, was a bridge between him and Tina. As Newt pondered, he grasped the realization that it was not a bridge he wanted to burn. Newt grabbed the book and discreetly hid it within the pocket of his coat. He ascended a stepladder and stepped into the living room of the apartment. The heavenly smell of food hit Newt squarely in the nose.  
“Hello, Mr. Scamander!” Queenie’s voice echoed dreamily through the air. Newt wondered why she was calling him by his last name again. He stepped into view, holding his briefcase in front of him. Queenie and Tina were standing close, heads bent close together. They parted when they spotted Newt, but continued to flash each other knowing glances. Soup bubbled on the oven (boiling from an unknown heat source) and an assortment of buttered pastries were scattered across the table.  
“Hello, Queenie.” Newt smiled tentatively, standing at the edge of the room. Rain pounded against the window and thunder rumbled, but the interior of the apartment was cozy and inviting.  
“I was just telling Tina how awful it is that Picquery arrested you! She’s been a terror ever since Grindelwald escaped.” Queenie spoke nonchalantly, whisking her wand in multiple directions to set the table and fill the glasses. Grindelwald’s escape was news to Newt. He scarcely read the newspaper, even when he wasn’t in the field. His encounter with Grindelwald, posing as Mr. Graves, had been enough to sustain him for a lifetime.

Nothing further was spoken about Grindelwald. Newt was no Legilimens, but he could feel the air turn brittle. Tina wore a scowl and attempted to face in the opposite direction for as long as she could. Queenie talked about random MACUSA news, lazily flicking her wand every which way. Newt absentmindedly brought Smidgens’ papers to the table, spreading them out to marvel at. It gave him something to do. Even Tina couldn’t resist the gorgeous, multi-colored dragon that soared through two separate photos, flapping her wings proudly.  
“Is that her?” Queenie asked, her eyes gleaming with fascination. Newt nodded sullenly. He swapped his concentration to a separate document; this one was a hand-drawn map with bulky arrows tracing Smidgens flight patterns. She had been a marvelous dragon to study. Newt had an inkling that she was going to be a mother, too. A mother… the thought struck him over the head, physically causing him to wince. Tina noticed. She scooted closer and kept her eyes fixed on Newt, but he couldn’t utter a sound. He was furiously flipping through pages, reading his barely legible handwritten notes.  
“Newt? What’s wrong?” Tina ventured. Newt remained mute, but his mind was a whirling mess of theories. What if Smidgens was a mother? It would explain her aggression… Newt sifted through one last map, coming to the Holy Grail of his discovery. Antipodean Opaleye’s were valley creatures, as oppose to their dragon brethren who preferred the mountains. Their territory was diminishing severely and nesting sites were hard to come by. Could it be…? Newt leaned back in his chair, holding the paper in front of him with slightly shaky hands. Smidgens returned to the same spot to rest nearly every night. She’d leave during peak hours of sunshine to hunt and sustain herself. Newt could never get close enough to see where exactly she landed, but all the signs were there. Her aggression; her night time rests in the same area—Smidgens had already laid her eggs! She was mother! Queenie gasped, plucking Newt’s thought directly from his mind. Tina looked up at her sharply and, like true sisters, Queenie relayed the information. Shame shadowed Newt’s face. He should have known. After all, he had observed her for two weeks! She was captured roughly six hours ago and the minutes were ticking away steadily. The eggs couldn’t survive long, not without a heat source. Maybe a night or two… Newt had to try.

He rose quickly, unable to waste any time. “I have to go.” he said, looking imploringly at Tina. He expected an expression of disdain, or perhaps fury. After all, she was a MACUSA auror and Newt had sworn to stay away from any situation involving Smidgens. Would she attempt to stop him? Did she understand? Newt didn’t want to wait for an answer. He strode to the door, but Tina got there faster. Her jaw was set determinedly and her eyes glowered daringly. Newt instinctively grasped his wand, inching closer to Tina.  
“Please move.” he said curtly, not meeting her eye. It had been Newt’s first impression that Tina genuinely cared for Smidgens, although she had never known the Opaleye. Disappointment made his heart ache. “Tina, please move.” Newt could stun her, although it might be against the law. He was calculating each scenario…  
“I want to come.” Tina said defiantly. Newt blinked hard. Oh, well, obviously he had fallen asleep and he was now dreaming. It was first time anyone, let alone a woman, had volunteered to accompany him into the field. Once determining the situation was actually reality, Newt began to doubt himself. This particular trip wasn’t going to be easy. Newt’s former perch was a sheer cliff, hanging above the basin area where he suspected the eggs would be hidden. Disapparation was a dangerous process when it came to dramatic altitude change. Newt had been in perilous circumstances before, conquering them with little fear when it involved the rescue of a magical beast, but he’d have to worry about a second life. A life that, admittedly, was very dear to him.  
“Shouldn’t we be leaving?” Tina’s voice broke Newt from his reverie. He nervously ran his hand down the front of his coat, fidgeting with the buttons. Yes, they had to be going. They had to leave straightaway. It was Tina’s choice.  
“It won’t be easy.” He muttered, meeting Tina’s eye for the first time. Tina didn’t hesitate. She swung the door open and stared at Newt expectantly, urging him forward by saying “We’ve got eggs to save.” Newt gripped his briefcase tightly and kept his head low, striding from the apartment. He was a veteran of five continents and hundreds of countries; each one a unique and potentially hazardous undertaking. This was vastly different.

Newt and Tina quietly exited the building, stopping only when Queenie dashed downstairs carrying a bag full of Kowalski Bakery crafted goodies. Tina gratefully accepted the sustenance and stowed it away within her coat. They left the building and stood in the shadowy street. Tina clapped her hand onto her hat to keep it from flying away in the driving rain. Thunder grumbled and lightning streaked through the clouds, but Newt paid little attention to the weather. He was envisioning himself in the carved river valley of Pennsylvania. He knew nothing of Pennsylvania’s history or cities, let alone the types of people who resided there, but he vividly remembered the rolling mountains of forest. He wanted to be there. He took a deep breath and steadily wrapped his rough hand around Tina’s, attempting not to make a note on how soft her skin felt. She regarded him for only an instant before they were sucked into darkness.


	3. A Journey to Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our plot takes a moment to thicken while Newt worries about Tina's sudden bout of sickness.

Darkness melted into the pale colors of dawn. Newt sat below a large oak tree, nestled comfortably into the curving roots. Beside him, his battered suitcase leaned against the bark. Tina was inside, slumbering on the couch that Newt usually claimed as his bed. They had Apparated to the edge of the forest, delving deeper without hesitation. Despite the illumination provided by their wands, the shadows continued to creep. Newt stopped for Tina’s sake; her face was gaunt and stricken with exhaustion within a few hours.

After finding a bush to tuck the briefcase within, Newt had plunged into his lair. Tina had followed shortly behind him, losing her balance as she landed. He savored the moment (although his stubborn conscience refused to tell him why) in which he clutched her arm, keeping her steady. She looked too drowsy to notice. Despite her worrisome condition, she refused to take up temporary residence on the only comfortable surface in Newt’s briefcase—the old sofa. Apparently, she didn’t believe it to be fair to Newt. He was well aware that sleep would never overcome him, not at such an imperative time. He wasn’t very good at haggling, but he gave it his best effort. Eventually, Tina agreed to sleep on the couch—on the condition that Newt sleep in a comfy nest of straw nearby. Blessedly, she didn’t notice that there was only one blanket. He wondered if she’d want to rip it in half and share it. Newt pondered just how Tina could be so insistent. Their first meeting was less than relaxed; she dragged him by the arm to MACUSA in hopes of getting him arrested. She had seemed steely and guarded to him, then. Hour by hour, Newt could see her concrete walls were crumbling.

He lay awake for ten minutes. Tina’s breathing slowed and softened and Newt became quite sure she was asleep. He hopped to his feet and silently stalked into his workshop. He spent the remainder of the early morning with Smidgens’ papers splayed before him. Occasionally, to rest his eyes, he’d make another jar of Essence of Murtlap. His gash still stung, but it was beginning to heal over. His palms ached and still reeked of burnt flesh, but the throbbing had disappeared. Overall, he was feeling much better. The clock struck five. Newt lifted his head from his arms and checked the watch on his wrist to be sure. Yep, five chimes. Time was precious. He crept from the workshop, watching as dawn began to overtake the enchanted sky. He glanced at Tina’s silhouette, rising and falling on the clumpy couch.

“Tina?” Newt spoke softly, leaning down to shake Tina by the shoulder. She roused surprisingly fast, but kept her face buried in the pillow. It was comical to Newt, who hadn’t tried waking anyone up for several years (there was the occasional nighttime Hogwarts venture that required an assistant). “Tina, we have to leave now. Here, take this.” Newt lowered a steaming cup of tea below her nose. Unable to resist the temptation of a warm brew, Tina sat up and accepted the cup gratefully. Newt gave her a minute to gain her composer before dolefully realizing that he looked no better. During his nighttime ramblings, he had managed to drop his coat, sweater and vest in various locations. In nothing but a dress shirt and a limp tie hanging around his neck, Newt unobtrusively excused himself to his workshop.

Tina was fully awake by the time he returned. Her patchy blanket was draped around her shoulders while she gazed at the fake horizon. Newt leaned against the doorway, wondering what had caught her eye. A number of large creatures were striding across the vastness, their various calls ringing through the air. Newt had a sudden inspiration. After all, he had been waiting to give his present for months! If she was going to accompany him on this hunt for Smidgens’ eggs, she’d need a basic understand of Antipodean Opaleyes. What better way than from a best encyclopedia? Newt fished in his coat pocket, not having to search long before removing the slender, red bound book. Now was a good a time as any. He took a seat beside Tina, feeling very long and clunky as he did so. He cleared his throat.

“Tina,” he began, keeping his eyes fixed on a motionless spot ahead. He could feel her gaze burning into him. “I have something for you.” he turned his head, but continued to avert her gaze. If he looked now, he might chicken out. As he produced the book from his coat wrinkles, he felt brave enough to lock eyes; if only for a second. Tina wasn’t looking at him. She was staring at the book in amazement. She took it gingerly in her small hands, holding the cover close to her face. Newt shrank back into the couch, sinking his fingernails into his kneecaps. A small, delighted grin crossed Tina’s face. She finally looked up. Her eyes glistened and she blinked hard as she spoke.  
“How does it feel to be a published author?” she asked in a wobbly voice. Newt smiled back and looked down at his feet. He wrung his hands together and shrugged. Until her acceptance of the fantastic beast encyclopedia, Newt didn’t realize just how much he enjoyed being a published author. He always had faith in his creatures—and his career pursuing them—but this book had made it official. His research was out there, hopefully influencing people across the globe. “It feels spectacular.” answered Newt truthfully. Tina grinned and flipped open the book.

They journeyed through the forest until early afternoon. Tina was in higher spirits than the previous night and was exhibiting her strange capability to read while she hiked. Sometimes her hair would get stuck on the undergrowth and Newt would have to free her, or Newt would trip and she’d spring forward before he lost his suitcase into a coulee. There were intermissions of silence before Newt would start up another game of Creature Trivia. As expected, Newt would always win. Accordingly, they made excellent time. Tina requested a break for a late lunch. Newt was opposed to the idea, but she had already wrangled the briefcase from him.  
“You won’t find anything in there.” Newt told her.  
“Why, what do you normally eat?” she inquired, reluctantly returning the battered suitcase to Newt. He pondered for a moment before coming to the realization that he didn’t eat very often. When he did, it was usually something a muggle would buy from a refueling station (whatever those were for).  
“Are you telling me that we have to forage for our dinner?” Tina was staring directly at Newt now. He shied away and became very interested in the nearest tree. The sun peeked out from behind the clouds, dappling the forest floor with swatches of sunshine. It was a wonderful day.  
“Well, if you really don’t want to continue, I suggest we look for some mushrooms.” Tina’s face was comical. It was apparent she had never scavenged for food before. “Are there mushrooms in this book, too?” she asked, flipping through several pages sarcastically. Newt shook his head woefully. Tina began mulling over her options. No doubt she was questioning every decision in her life up until that moment, as well as Newt’s survival. Admittedly, Newt was very skinny. He was tall and compact and often wore layers, but below his clothes you could count each rib. His days of being self-conscious were long forgotten.  
“If we find these eggs…” Tina began uncertainly. Newt sensed a compromise approaching. “—do you promise that we can Disapparate and find some real food?” Newt nodded rapidly. He wasn’t aware of what Tina really meant by “find some real food”, but he wasn’t about to ask.  
“The good news is—” Newt extracted a map from his pocket “—we’re close enough to Apparate without dying.” Newt announced proudly. She was staring at him with a ghastly look on her face. “Dying?” her voice was a harsh whisper. Newt didn’t have time to waste. He took a footstep closer. Tina inhaled shakily before reaching out to clutch Newt’s hand with acquiescence (in foresight, Newt realized he shouldn’t have mentioned death). The pair were warped into suffocating darkness.

The world spiraled around them for much longer than expected. Newt felt as if his lungs were being shoved through a very narrow tube; his head was being split down the middle. Try as he might, it was extremely difficult to keep a picture of his destination in mind. At last, he saw a blur of green coming quickly for his feet. He braced himself for the smashing impact, gripping Tina’s hand tighter than ever before.  
A dull thud brought sharp spikes of pain through Newt’s feet as he landed. His head spun and disorientation set in as he crashed into the grass. Tina’s hand was sweaty in his and he could hear her groaning in pain. Newt sat up, attempting to steady his gaze. To his horror, he realized just how much he had overshot their Apparation. Instead of landing a number of yards from the overhang, Newt was staring straight down the thirty foot drop. The height was dizzying, but he kept his head high on his shoulders. His biggest concern was Tina. Feeling slightly better, he glanced to his side and saw Tina in the grass, her legs dangling over the edge of the dangerous, sudden drop. Her face was white as a Hogwarts ghost and her lips were colorless. Newt feared the sight of blood from a splinch, but he spotted nothing.  
“Tina?” he muttered. Tina mumbled incoherently. She attempted to sit up, but Newt pressed her shoulders into the grass. “Tina, sit still…” he was extremely concerned, not just for her health, but for the possibility that she was unaware of the perilous drop in front of her. “What’s wrong?” Tina asked, her words clear now. “There’s a thirty foot—” Tina didn’t wait for him to finish. She sat bolt upright, her eyes spinning in every direction. She let out a cross between a screech and a yelp. Newt flung his arms around her shoulders, tossing his weight against hers. She was not going to fall off this cliff. If anything, that was the lamest way for an auror to die. The side-along Apparation had obviously boggled her mind. Newt wrapped his arm around her shoulder and hauled her up the hill, nearer to the tree line.  
They rested there for several minutes while Tina recovered. A chilly breeze swept across the lush hill; the sun’s golden rays highlighted the rolling valley. Tina sat with her back pressed against a tree. She shivered, but kept her eyes determinedly fixed on a point in the distance. Newt took a seat nearby, still feeling queasy from their journey.  
“Are you trying to kill me, Newt Scamander?” Tina breathed heavily. Despite the seriousness of the accusation, her voice was light and comical. Newt laughed shakily, egged on by Tina’s soft amusement. She still trembled and looked green in the face, but appeared to recovering gradually. Newt tucked his knees below his chin, wrapping his arms around his legs. Tina had put up with him for nearly a full day, yet she showed little sign of remorse. This was a rare occurrence. Newt didn’t know what to make of it. For months, he had warped his memory of Tina into a confusing room of mirrors. When he slept, he was analyzing what he could have said or done. When he was awake, he was working his bum off to escape the memories, but they always sought him. Now, gazing out across the hills of Pennsylvania with Tina by his side, Newt felt strangely whole. Despite their rough arrival, this was exactly where Newt wanted to be.

His eyes settled on Tina, who had not budged an inch. Overlooking the knots in her hair and the grass stains on her outfit, Newt contemplated just how pretty she was. Newt could not call her gorgeous. To him, gorgeous meant flashy jewelry, perfect hair and teasing winks. Tina was not gorgeous, she was beautifully simple. A faint smile tracing across his lips, Newt got to his feet and quietly picked his way towards Tina. He shrugged his coat from his shoulders, allowing Pickett to find shelter within his underlying sweater. Tina heard him approach and gazed up at him curiously. Newt bent lower, balancing on the balls of his feet, and wrapped his coat around her shoulders, pulling the loose fabric tight to keep her warm. They exchanged a brief glance. A small smile tugged at Tina’s lips and her eyes gleamed. Newt released the coat and traipsed back to his tree, determined not to study Tina’s reaction. With her back to him, he failed to notice the ear-to-ear grin that slipped across her lips; he failed to notice the way she tugged the coat all around her, as if she had worn it every day of her life. That was Newt’s worst flaw—he failed to notice a lot of things.


	4. Stolen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt makes an unsavory discovery in the depths of the Pennsylvanian forest. Suspicions abound, Tina is there to help with the investigation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback would be very much appreciated!

A thirty foot drop wasn’t quite as long as Newt believed it to have been. Under the influence of Disapparation sickness, a five foot incline can look like a massive descent. Still, it was a risky thing to do. If he emerged from his Apparation too soon, he’d fall and most likely break a bone. This worried him; he wasn’t very good at bone healing spells.

It was decided that Tina would stay behind and wait for Newt to return. He wasn’t exactly sure what was wrong with her. She was shivery, pale and weak. When she walked, she took tiny steps instead of her purposeful strides. They couldn’t Disapparate back to New York, it was too far and too perilous. Dismayed but not disheartened, Newt carefully laid his briefcase beside Tina. She instinctively took the handle, wrapping her fingers around it in a caring way that Newt had never seen anyone do—except for himself. He felt like smiling—beaming, actually—but hid his face by speaking to Pickett. Despite Pickett’s fear of heights and aversion for dragons, he was willing to accompany Newt into the valley.

Newt stood on the edge of the wide ravine and turned back to Tina. “Would you like your coat back?” she called. Newt gazed at her thoughtfully, ignoring Pickett’s cooing tones in his ear. “No, I’ll be back soon.” Newt allowed himself a smile this time. Tina looked ready to argue, so he quickly turned his back on her. His gears shifted. He was on an egg hunt now. Antipodean Opaleye eggs were the dullest of eggs; a simple gray color. However, they housed the most vibrant creatures on Earth. He still had faith in the survival of the hatchlings. Focus… Newt focused on the ground below. It wasn’t too far, just a short jump… and a hop… and perhaps a wee skip…

Wind rushed past Newt’s ears in a whirling fury. He felt his clothes whip around him, as if they were being ripped apart by a thousand little hands. He was concentrating harder, imagining the ground sprawled out before him, and gently lowering himself closer. He kept his eyes shut tight, fearing that he’d get too dizzy if he let his eyes wander. All he had to do was thi—THUD.

Newt was on the ground. It felt as if a roasting fork had been slammed into his shoulder. He allowed himself a yelp as the pain seared through him. He remained motionless on the ground for a few more seconds, wondering what he’d see when he sat up. What stirred him was the realization that Pickett was no longer with him. His tiny body was always present on Newt’s person. Newt was always consciously aware of Pickett’s soft breathing and occasional movements. Fear gripped his heart. He hated to be fearful. Wasn’t it he who had a great philosophy on fear and worrying? It was a human instinct that he taught himself to push away. However, this wasn’t your average situation. This was a beloved friend gone missing.  
“Pickett!” rasped Newt. He struggled to his feet, using his left arm to steady himself. He attempted to lift his right hand, but it wasn’t worth the agony. “PICKETT!” Newt called again, loud enough for his voice to echo. Tears threatening to overflow, Newt scrambled through the grass. “Pickett? PICKETT!” He called his name so much, it began to sound fake. Pickett’s memory was just a hallucination, Newt had never loved a tiny bowtruckle so much… No. Pickett was the truth.  
“PICKETT!” Newt stumbled and landed in the grass. He breathed heavily, shoving his face into the dirt.

Squeak.

It was too faint for an untrained ear to hear, but Newt was not your average ear.  
“Pickett?” he whispered, pushing himself upright. A series of squeaks followed. It was Pickett. No other bowtruckle would be calling Newt by name. “Pickett! Pickett where are you?” Newt blinked his bleary eyes and saw a living, green root sprinting towards him. The panic melted away, replaced by immediate relief. When Pickett was within arm’s reach, Newt scooped him up and cradled him like a babe. Pickett buried himself within the folds of Newt’s sweater before remembering he should be acting angry. He jolted upright and began squealing indignantly. A number of exclamations ensued, such as “Pickett, I’m sorry!” “Pickett! Where did you learn such naughty words?” “I really don’t have time for this.” Newt got to his feet and cast an anxious glance to the rock overhang. He expected Tina to be peering over the edge, amusement spreading across her face. She was not there. Of course not, she’s ill! Newt continued on his journey.

Tracking two week old dragon footprints with huge gaps in the middle is no easy task. Smidgens liked to spread her wings and take flight whenever possible (Newt was able to observe that much). The sun sank lower and lower until the sky was a deep, brilliant blue. The brightest stars twinkled and glimmered overhead. It was a picturesque scene. Newt traversed the length of the valley, trying to pinpoint exactly where Smidgens had rested each night. It was lodged in his memory, but he had little ability to reach it. It was an accident when he finally stumbled upon it. In the dark with nothing but his illuminated wand tip, Newt heaved himself over a fallen tree and aimlessly approached what appeared to be a rocky area devoid of trees. As he did so, the scent of dragon dung wafted on the breeze. He dropped low, picking his next steps very carefully. He stood in the center of the clearing, which consisted mainly of elevated, flat rocks. Pickett cowered under Newt’s collar. “Do you remember this place?” Newt asked softly. Pickett said nothing—that was a yes. Bowtruckles had excellent memories.

Thus began the search of a lifetime. Front to back, back to front, Newt scoured each blade of grass in the clearing. There was no doubt that Smidgens had landed and stomped around, but where had she laid? She wouldn’t hide her eggs in knotholes—they wouldn’t get sun there. Newt leaned against the rocks, pressing his chills fingers to the surface. The rocks were still warm from the day’s sunshine. Having an idea, Newt struggled onto the plateaued boulder. His right arm was entirely useless and his shoulder had swelled to twice his size. Despite this, Newt managed. Once atop the rock, he inspected every inch. It was evident that the rock was quite natural and had once been larger. It was split down the middle four ways. Each piece leaned ominously to their respective sides, but did not shake when Newt tentatively placed a foot upon their surface. It was in the wand light that Newt noticed something extraordinary. Dirt. The four-way split of the rocks was filled with mud. The mud had dried into a clay-like substance, baking each day in the sun to turn it into a dull gray color. Camouflage? He had never seen an Antipodean Opaleye camouflage her eggs before, but beasts never ceased to surprise him. He looked closer, pushing aside a few tiny shrubs that sprouted from the dirt. There, hiding in the very center, marvelously hidden, was one egg.

Newt didn’t vacillate. He ripped the weeds away from the egg’s hiding spot, careful not to disrupt the nest itself. The eggs was petite and the color reminded Newt of dark fog. He gently caressed the egg with his hand, entranced by its small size and simplicity. Dragon eggs were not supposed to be so small. He hunted for more, but he merely found three other, larger dimples in the dirt. Now, to the untutored eye, it appeared as if a predator had stolen the other eggs. Newt, however, was suspicious. He had found no tracks of a marauder animal large enough to carry the eggs. Lizards and snakes, which left virtually no trace in the dry grass, were not big enough to carry dragon eggs. This, Newt was sure of. Whatever took the eggs was cunning—deviously cunning. Newt had a suspicious that he was looking for a person—not a creature.

Uncertainties aside, Newt set to work. In his natural state of mind, he picked up the egg and observed the small print it made compared to its sister (or brother) eggs. It was the runt. No predator would leave behind one egg and take the other three. Now positive the thief was a two-legged human, Newt cradled the egg carefully. Wand clamped between his teeth and Pickett firmly holding on, it was time to leave. Newt prepared the egg and himself for the Disapparation journey, as he was in easy Disapparation distance of Tina. The ascent wasn’t as difficult as the descent. It was a simple job of focusing and being whisked away by the wind. Of course, there was the terrible feeling of being pulling through a tube much too small to fit you, but Newt didn’t believe it’d leave any lasting damage on the egg. It was the landing he was more concerned about.

CRACK

His two feet hit solid ground. He mustered his energy to keep himself firmly planted in his spot. While he did this, he failed to hear Tina’s sigh of relief. She sat below the same tree, her wand aloft and blazing with white light. She gripped Newt’s briefcase in her extra hand which, Newt noticed immediately, was covered in the extra length of sleeve from his coat.  
“You found one?” she gasped, rushing forward excitedly. Newt nodded solemnly. One, he found one… Who had found the others? Newt kept the panic at bay. Tina was speaking to him, but her voice sounded many miles away. He was reaching for his briefcase, telling her something about testing to see if the baby dragon was still alive… Click. The suitcase fell open, revealing the wonderful sight of Newt’s lair. Despite its ramshackle appearance (even from above), the workshop was a comfort to Newt. He struggled with his entrance.  
“Tina?” he asked, tentatively holding the egg towards her. His right arm hung limply beside him; an unnecessary appendage that Newt would’ve rather cut off at the moment.  
“What happened to your arm?” she asked quietly, taking the egg and holding it close to her. Newt ignored the question, feeling coddled. He lowered himself into his workshop. Tina shadowed him before they exchanged the egg once more. As cliché as it sounds, it was time to get to work.

Newt was in his own world. He was in a world in which Tina was merely a person lingering inside his workshop. She was not a friend, not even remotely close to being… well, something more. Pickett reminded Newt of his existence but, had he not, Newt might have easily forgotten (not for long, of course. What would he do without his trusty, leafy sidekick?). Newt set a large cauldron packed with stones over a crackling fire, dousing them with water to get them to swelter. At first, he swaddled the egg gently with rags soaked in scalding water, not wishing to shock it if was still alive. Occasionally, Tina would come closer and peer over Newt’s shoulder. Newt would shuffle around her, answering her questions on autopilot. “I would feel a twitch by now…” Newt said aloud. He caught Tina’s eye and was slammed with another boatload of feelings and thoughts he’d later sort out. For now, he shoved them under the bed.

Newt placed the egg within the bucket of rocks and let the surface become dotted with tiny droplets. Newt’s face sweated profusely as he leaned over the bucket, shuffling around the rocks until they each became blistering hot. Thanks to the hearty shell of dragon eggs, he didn’t have to worry about the morbid thought of the dragon cooking. The heat would be necessary throughout the night.  
“There’s nothing else I can do, for now.” Newt announced, straightening his stance. Beads of sweat soaked his brow, causing his face to glisten. Tina inhaled a shaky breath and nodded, needing no further explanation. Newt inaudibly excused himself and vacated the workshop.  
He was irked, to say the least. Something—someone, he was convinced—had stolen the three other eggs that belonged to Smidgens. Newt feared for their safety and treatment. There were dragon breeders notorious for raising dragons for the purpose of extracting their scales in the cruelest ways imaginable. Newt had the displeasure of witnessing the process once, acting as an undercover unofficial officer. He quickly put an end to it, nearly getting himself killed in the process. The evidence to support his theory of a dragon egg thief was slim, but a basic instinct continued to spur him.  
“Newt?” Tina appeared in the winter biome, clutching a steaming cup of liquid. Newt kicked the nearest clump of snow and shoved his hands in his pockets, avoiding her eyes. She was reading him, he could tell. She was working out exactly how she felt. She had been cooped up with him on this adventure; she was truly tasting his lifestyle. How much longer would she stay? Newt’s insecurities quivered, begging his attention. He mentally waved them away, concentrating instead on the vast, snowy landscape.  
“How’s your arm?” Tina was closer now. To be quite truthful, his arm was throbbing and felt as if the entire thing was shattered. Of course, Newt would never say such a thing out loud. Tina, however, had already produced her wand. She held Newt’s tin cup of tea to him. He accepted it gratefully, freeing up her hands to carefully mend his shoulder.  
“Episkey!” the incantation was short, but the lasting impression of the spell was not. His broad shoulder began to burn below the skin. He was bending down to shovel snow into his shirt when it suddenly became icy cold, as if his bone was freezing back into a solid shape. He gritted his teeth and gripped his cup until he felt the metal bending below his fingers. Tina was watching with a wide-eyed, concerned expression. “Is it better?” Tina genuinely sounded frightened by her wand work. Newt prepared to tell the truth, but was stopped short by the sudden subsiding of pain. He lifted his arm and flexed his hand. The skin still felt sensitive and the muscles ached, but it was better than feeling as if a spike had been driven through his shoulder blade. “Much better.” 

The remainder of the night passed by in silence. Tina vanished into a biome and did not reappear for nearly two hours. Newt used the time to remove his sweater and suit vest and shed his smelly shirt. He tucked away the items, ready to consider wearing lighter materials for the coming summer. He threw on a button-up shirt, a striking shade of blue, and glued himself to the chair in front of his workshop fireplace. The dragon egg hadn’t jerked an inch. Newt sipped his tea and let the warmth lull him into drowsiness. He slumped forward in his chair, blinking away the darkness. The fatigue ebbed momentarily before washing over him again, growing heavier each time. He finally gave in and lost himself in a world devoid of understanding. Long streaks of fire erupted into the air, accompanied by an equally terrifying bellow. A lone figure stood in front of the swirling orange flame; the person’s back was to Newt, but he could make out a short stature and hunched gait. The roar belonged to that of a huge beast with gleaming eyes. It was not Smidgens, but it was a dragon that Newt vaguely remembered. He desperately wanted to run, he wanted to shout and use every offensive spell on whatever was instilling so much pain on the dragon. He was cemented to the stop, forced to observe the cruelties. The blaze changed directions, swiveling towards the blackened figure. Newt froze with the terror that gripped his heart as he watched the man become engulfed in the conflagration. The person was dead, surely they were burnt to a crisp! Newt begged to see more, but his vision was fading. He was being dragged through a very long tunnel to which there felt like no end. He’d be trapped forever.

Scrape.

Newt woke with a start. The world spun around him and his stomach jumped to his throat, he felt the falling sensation continue. He immediately became aware of Tina’s presence in the room. She had drawn a chair close to him and sat. She smiled at him tiredly and remained silent, despite the obvious questions burning on her mind. Newt got to his feet and shuffled to the other side of the small room, leaning against the island countertop. What could he say? Personally, his sanity was in question. Never, not once, had a dream thwacked him so forcefully. He couldn’t comprehend it. He felt as if the dream was actually a memory resurfacing. Try as he might, accessing the details felt impossible. For the first time, fear had him in its grip. I’m not completely helpless, Newt huffed. He stood up straight, turned to Tina and rolled his sleeves farther up his arm, his gaze burning into Tina’s. He had to work. There was a mystery that needed solving. There was a job to do and Newt was going to get it done.

“What do you know about Smidgens’ capture?”


	5. Hello, NY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Tina return to New York to solve the unraveling mystery of Smidgens' missing eggs.

“Barely anything.” Tina admitted, warily getting to her feet. Newt poured a cup of tea and slid it across the table, encouraging her with a brief glance. Tina took a thoughtful sip of the steaming brew. Newt had just returned from his forest excursion and, after discovering Smidgens’ eggs, was very concerned for the safety of the others. 

“They followed Smidgens for two weeks before capturing her. Did you see them while you were watching her?” Tina inquired. “They knew where she was for two weeks? They waited that long?” Newt ignored Tina’s question by presenting two of his own, confusion crimping his face. He didn’t wait for an answer. He set down Smidgens’ papers and covered the wooden surface with the stained sheets, scanning each one individually. Tina came to his side of the table, equaling his concentration and taking particular interest in his sketches. He thought he heard a muttering of “You’re a great artist…” but he couldn’t be sure.

“There were four eggs in total, Tina.” he muttered, tracing his finger across the trail map of Smidgens’ flight patterns. “You think someone stole them?” she queried. Newt didn’t feel the need to answer. Instead, he straightened and began pacing the length of the room, mumbling to himself. He spun around to face Tina.

“Why would they follow her for two weeks without capturing her? During those two weeks—” Newt presented a small sheet of paper from his pocket “—she had three accidents. One involved a muggle—No-Maj—, the second set a department store on fire and the third…” Newt’s voice trailed away. It was difficult to talk about Smidgens in a way that might make her disrespected. The third incident resulted in death of a young witch. After the first accident, why hadn’t they attempted to capture her to avoid more destruction?—Not to mention the great amount of Oblivation that had to be done.

“What do you know about Igor Orgnuk?” asked Newt, gaging Tina’s reaction as he spoke the name of the overseer of Smidgens’ capture. She sucked in a breath and spoke from memory. “He’s been on MACUSA’s list for years. After so many trials, we aren’t allowed to open an investigation until we receive a complaint or find evidence of foul play.” Newt rapped his knuckles against the table for a moment, considering this. “I suppose I could submit a complaint.” he said. Tina shook her head and dropped her soulful brown gaze to her feet. “Do you think Picquery will take anything you say seriously? She’ll think it’s about revenge.” said Tina truthfully. Newt turned away from her and sighed heavily. He felt as if heavy sandbags were roped to his shoulders, dragging him closer into the pit of despair. He felt useless to Smidgens and her eggs. He was sick of being targeted by authoritative figures.

“Newt?” Tina’s voice cut through Newt’s depressing thoughts. He turned to her, expecting to see a look of pity or remorse. Instead, her eyes were beaming brightly and she was standing at attention. “We should head back to New York. I’ll find out more about Orgnuk and you can take care of the egg.” Tina was desperately trying to keep Newt clinging to hope. Newt drummed his fingers on the nearest surface while contemplating this suggestion. It made sense. There was nothing more to do in the forest. “How are you feeling?” Newt inquired. Tina waved her hand dismissively. “Dizzy spells here and there, but I’ll be fine.” assured Tina.

Newt agreed to the plan and departed the workshop to do a last minute check on his creatures. Tina also wanted to change into the only extra set of clothes she had brought. Newt knew that this, the plan of heading back to New York, was all for the best, but he couldn’t help but wonder if Tina was trying to shake him off like dust from her shoes. Had she come to a decision about Newt? For once, Newt was on the verge of asking Tina outright. No, he’d wait.  
He allowed Tina longer time to rest, claiming she needed to keep an eye on the egg. He disembarked from the briefcase and clasped it shut, trekking through the dark forest alone. It was almost sunup when he began the daylong journey to the nearest road. He hummed little tunes, thought of not-very-funny jokes and soaked in the dawn beauty of nature. While doing all these things, he was wishing that Tina was alongside him. When he caught himself thinking these things, he would perform simple spells to keep himself busy. It wasn’t until noontime that Newt unwillingly let Tina accompany him. He was attempting to be very cautious with her health. He had never had to take care of an ill person before and he wasn’t sure how to go about it. Luckily, Tina seemed to be on the up and up.

“You know,” began Tina, stopping Newt in his tracks. He turned around, swinging his briefcase in front him. When he caught sight of Tina, he was painfully reminded just how beautiful she was. She stood in a swath of sunshine, glowing against the dim timberland background. An abashed smile spread across Newt’s face, giving him a very dopey appearance. “This really is gorgeous land.” said Tina, affectionately patting the tree she leaned against. Newt made a noncommittal grunt and continued walking. He was having trouble focusing on much of anything. One minute he was feeling helpless and full of despair, hoping to continue onward and find out a way to find the other eggs, but the next he was unable to make a plan to save his life—err, to save the life of Smidgens’ eggs. His mother had once described such a feeling to him; he was unwilling to acknowledge the truth behind her statement.

“Have you been to the jungle before?” asked Tina, trailing closely behind Newt. “Of course! How else am I supposed to find an Acromantula?” Newt replied, casting a lopsided grin back at Tina. “Look in the book.” he added upon her inquisitive stare. To his great disbelief, Tina immediately removed his book from her pocket. He hadn’t known she was going to keep it on her person…“An Acromantula is a species of giant spider…”  
The day withered away before Newt’s eyes. He had to admit, despite the ominous overhang of emotions, he had enjoyed his extended trip with Tina. They Disapparated to the MACUSA Headquarters front steps. The large, stone building came into focus after a sickening trip. Newt wasn’t as quick to relinquish Tina’s hand as he usually was, worried she might collapse. Despite looking slightly queasy, she appeared to be alright. “I’ll find out as much as I can about Igor.” Tina promised, her eyes anxiously flitting across everyone passing by the building.

“Thank you.” Newt said softly. It was an odd thing to say during the middle of their continuous plight, but he still needed to say it. After all, Tina had showed him a whole new possible side to his adventures. She gave him comradeship and lent him her energy and time—that was very important to him.  
“Mrs. Esposito will still be awake, so go up the fire escape.” said Tina in a hushed tone. Newt cocked his head to one side, confused. Tina rolled her eyes in exasperation. “You can stay with Queenie. She’ll feed you properly.” Tina whispered. Newt was about to protest, seeing as he’d spend the entire night in his briefcase anyway, but Tina was already bounding up the steps. She slowed her stride to a professional looking speed walk, nodding to a wizard who departed the MACUSA building as she entered. Newt watched her disappear through the windowed doors before rousing himself into action. He checked for any Muggles on the streets before Disapparating to the front of Tina and Queenie’s apartment building.

Once his Apparation was complete, Newt realized just how high up Tina and Queenie’s apartment was. The fire escape looked in need of replacement and was sopping wet from the continuous spring rain that dripped over New York. Newt doubted he could stealthily climb the rickety structure, but he was willing to give it a chance. He quietly scampered across the street, acting as any other pedestrian would. At the last available step, he darted into the empty alleyway, directly beside the slippery ladder of metal.

It was quite the task to quietly ascend the steep steps, occasionally having to climb a ladder and throw his suitcase above his head. At last, Newt reached a dimly lit window that he believed to be the bedroom of Queenie and Tina. He stooped low beside it, peering between the streaks of rainwater. He could make out the edges of two beds on either side of the room. One was neatly organized and freshly made while the other was a mess of dresses and blankets. Newt allowed himself a brief smile before quickly rapping his knuckles against the pane. In less than a few seconds, a bright face appeared at the window. However, it was not the bouncing golden curls that Newt expected, but a round mustached face—Jacob!

The window slid open and two pudgy hands gripped Newt firmly by the shoulders, practically yanking him into the room. Newt was alarmed by the hostility in the digging fingers. He remained silent as his long body, muddy and quite smelly, reconfigured itself in the bedroom. Jacob, still short and slightly indignant, stood before Newt with a grimace on his face. “What do you think you’re doing, mister?” the voice was meant to be a threatening growl, but it stopped short and disintegrated into surprise. Jacob’s eyes were fixed on Newt’s, remembrance stirring.

“Hello, Jacob.” Newt said awkwardly, forgetting that he wasn’t supposed to know who Jacob was. This made Jacob drop his hands from Newt’s arms and take a nervous step back. Newt wasn’t quite sure what to do. He didn’t know what Jacob recalled from their adventure together and he wasn’t certain that Jacob was allowed to be with Queenie alone. Nevertheless, he felt a stirring of sheer joy at the sight of Jacob’s curly hair and corpulent appearance. Thankfully, Queenie appeared in the doorway of the bedroom.

“Mr. Scamander!” she exclaimed gleefully. She clapped her hands together before taking excited little steps towards him. “Come in! You’re soaked! Long journey, I suppose. Is my sister with you?” the remarks and questions barreled into Newt like a train. He had already become accustomed to him and Tina’s simple conversations. “Ah, no, she went straight to her office to do some research.” Newt answered as he was dragged into the living area. Jacob followed closely behind him. “This Igor ‘fella doesn’t sound too savory.” said Queenie, painfully reminding Newt that she could read his thoughts. Before being forced into the nearest chair, Queenie grabbed Newt’s jacket and tossed it into the air. It glided gracefully to the fireplace, remaining stationary to dry. Newt hugged his arms around himself, feeling oddly bare. Queenie whisked away into the kitchen, leaving Jacob standing close by Newt’s seat.

“Jacob Kowalski—have we met before?” asked Jacob, holding out his hand for Newt to shake. Newt pretended not to see, choosing instead to fiddle with the golden clasp of his briefcase. “Might have.” he replied, unsure of what would be crossing the line. Clearly unsatisfied, Jacob took a seat in an armchair and began scratching the back of his neck. Newt stifled a chuckle at his friend’s rousing of memory.

The Goldstein’s apartment was just as Newt remembered it. The crackling fireplace cast a cozy glow across the room. The furniture was slightly shabby, yet still inviting in the warmth of the room. Newt expected to look up and see Tina and Queenie beside each other, maneuvering a dinner into existence. However, it was just Queenie, clad in an elegant pink dress. Newt sighed, realizing that Queenie wouldn’t release him before had dinner. Truth be told, he was feeling the effects of longstanding hunger, but he tried to keep those thoughts away.

“Barely anything.” Tina admitted, warily getting to her feet. Newt poured a cup of tea and slid it across the table, encouraging her with a brief glance. Tina took a thoughtful sip of the steaming brew. Newt had just returned from his forest excursion and, after discovering Smidgens’ eggs, was very concerned for the safety of the others. 

“They followed Smidgens for two weeks before capturing her. Did you see them while you were watching her?” Tina inquired. “They knew where she was for two weeks? They waited that long?” Newt ignored Tina’s question by presenting two of his own, confusion crimping his face. He didn’t wait for an answer. He set down Smidgens’ papers and covered the wooden surface with the stained sheets, scanning each one individually. Tina came to his side of the table, equaling his concentration and taking particular interest in his sketches. He thought he heard a muttering of “You’re a great artist…” but he couldn’t be sure.

“There were four eggs in total, Tina.” he muttered, tracing his finger across the trail map of Smidgens’ flight patterns. “You think someone stole them?” she queried. Newt didn’t feel the need to answer. Instead, he straightened and began pacing the length of the room, mumbling to himself. He spun around to face Tina.

“Why would they follow her for two weeks without capturing her? During those two weeks—” Newt presented a small sheet of paper from his pocket “—she had three accidents. One involved a muggle—No-Maj—, the second set a department store on fire and the third…” Newt’s voice trailed away. It was difficult to talk about Smidgens in a way that might make her disrespected. The third incident resulted in death of a young witch. After the first accident, why hadn’t they attempted to capture her to avoid more destruction?—Not to mention the great amount of Oblivation that had to be done.

“What do you know about Igor Orgnuk?” asked Newt, gaging Tina’s reaction as he spoke the name of the overseer of Smidgens’ capture. She sucked in a breath and spoke from memory. “He’s been on MACUSA’s list for years. After so many trials, we aren’t allowed to open an investigation until we receive a complaint or find evidence of foul play.” Newt rapped his knuckles against the table for a moment, considering this. “I suppose I could submit a complaint.” he said. Tina shook her head and dropped her soulful brown gaze to her feet. “Do you think Picquery will take anything you say seriously? She’ll think it’s about revenge.” said Tina truthfully. Newt turned away from her and sighed heavily. He felt as if heavy sandbags were roped to his shoulders, dragging him closer into the pit of despair. He felt useless to Smidgens and her eggs. He was sick of being targeted by authoritative figures.

“Newt?” Tina’s voice cut through Newt’s depressing thoughts. He turned to her, expecting to see a look of pity or remorse. Instead, her eyes were beaming brightly and she was standing at attention. “We should head back to New York. I’ll find out more about Orgnuk and you can take care of the egg.” Tina was desperately trying to keep Newt clinging to hope. Newt drummed his fingers on the nearest surface while contemplating this suggestion. It made sense. There was nothing more to do in the forest. “How are you feeling?” Newt inquired. Tina waved her hand dismissively. “Dizzy spells here and there, but I’ll be fine.” assured Tina.

Newt agreed to the plan and departed the workshop to do a last minute check on his creatures. Tina also wanted to change into the only extra set of clothes she had brought. Newt knew that this, the plan of heading back to New York, was all for the best, but he couldn’t help but wonder if Tina was trying to shake him off like dust from her shoes. Had she come to a decision about Newt? For once, Newt was on the verge of asking Tina outright. No, he’d wait.

Newt allowed Tina longer time to rest, claiming she needed to keep an eye on the egg. He disembarked from the briefcase and clasped it shut, trekking through the dark forest alone. It was almost sunup when he began the daylong journey to the nearest road. He hummed little tunes, thought of not-very-funny jokes and soaked in the dawn beauty of nature. While doing all these things, he was wishing that Tina was alongside him. When he caught himself thinking these things, he would perform simple spells to keep himself busy. It wasn’t until noontime that Newt allowed Tina to accompany him. He was attempting to be very cautious with her health. He had never had to take care of an ill person before and he wasn’t sure how to go about it. Luckily, Tina seemed to be on the up and up.

“You know,” began Tina, stopping Newt in his tracks. He turned around, swinging his briefcase in front him. When he caught sight of Tina, he was painfully reminded just how beautiful she was. She stood in a swath of sunshine, glowing against the dim timberland background. An abashed smile spread across Newt’s face, giving him a very dopey appearance. “This really is gorgeous land.” said Tina, affectionately patting the tree she leaned against. Newt made a noncommittal grunt and continued walking. He was having trouble focusing on much of anything. One minute he was feeling helpless and full of despair, hoping to continue onward and find out a way to find the other eggs, but the next he was unable to make a plan to save his life—err, to save the life of Smidgens’ eggs. His mother had once described such a feeling to him; he was unwilling to acknowledge the truth behind her statement.

“Have you been to the jungle before?” asked Tina, trailing closely behind Newt. “Of course! How else am I supposed to find an Acromantula?” Newt replied, casting a lopsided grin back at Tina. “Look in the book.” he added upon her inquisitive stare. To his great disbelief, Tina immediately removed his book from her pocket. He hadn’t known she was going to keep it on her person…“An Acromantula is a species of giant spider…”

The day withered away before Newt’s eyes. He had to admit, despite the ominous overhang of emotions, he had enjoyed his extended trip with Tina. They Disapparated to the MACUSA Headquarters front steps. The large, stone building came into focus after a sickening trip. Newt wasn’t as quick to relinquish Tina’s hand as he usually was, worried she might collapse. Despite looking slightly queasy, she appeared to be alright. “I’ll find out as much as I can about Igor.” Tina promised, her eyes anxiously flitting across everyone passing by the building.

“Thank you.” Newt said softly. It was an odd thing to say during the middle of their continuous plight, but he still needed to say it. After all, Tina had showed him a whole new possible side to his adventures. She gave him comradeship and lent him her energy and time—that was very important to him.

“Mrs. Esposito will still be awake, so go up the fire escape.” said Tina in a hushed tone. Newt cocked his head to one side, confused. Tina rolled her eyes in exasperation. “You can stay with Queenie. She’ll feed you properly.” Tina whispered. Newt was about to protest, seeing as he’d spend the entire night in his briefcase anyway, but Tina was already bounding up the steps. She slowed her stride to a professional looking speed walk, nodding to a wizard who departed the MACUSA building as she entered. Newt watched her disappear through the windowed doors before rousing himself into action. He checked for any Muggles on the streets before Disapparating to the front of Tina and Queenie’s apartment building.

Once his Apparation was complete, Newt realized just how high up Tina and Queenie’s apartment was. The fire escape looked in need of replacement and was sopping wet from the continuous spring rain that dripped over New York. Newt doubted he could stealthily climb the rickety structure, but he was willing to give it a chance. He quietly scampered across the street, acting as any other pedestrian would. At the last available step, he darted into the empty alleyway, directly beside the slippery ladder of metal.

It was quite the task to quietly ascend the steep steps, occasionally having to climb a ladder and throw his suitcase above his head. At last, Newt reached a dimly lit window that he believed to be the bedroom of Queenie and Tina. He stooped low beside it, peering between the streaks of rainwater. He could make out the edges of two beds on either side of the room. One was neatly organized and freshly made while the other was a mess of dresses and blankets. Newt allowed himself a brief smile before quickly rapping his knuckles against the pane. In less than a few seconds, a bright face appeared at the window. However, it was not the bouncing golden curls that Newt expected, but a round mustached face—Jacob!

The window slid open and two pudgy hands gripped Newt firmly by the shoulders, practically yanking him into the room. Newt was alarmed by the hostility in the digging fingers. He remained silent as his long body, muddy and quite smelly, reconfigured itself in the bedroom. Jacob, still short and indignant, stood before Newt with a grimace on his face. “What do you think you’re doing, mister?” the voice was meant to be a threatening growl, but it stopped short and disintegrated into surprise. Jacob’s eyes were fixed on Newt’s, remembrance stirring.

“Hello, Jacob.” Newt said awkwardly, forgetting that he wasn’t supposed to know who Jacob was. This made Jacob drop his hands from Newt’s arms and take a nervous step back. Newt wasn’t quite sure what to do. He didn’t know what Jacob recalled from their adventure together and he wasn’t certain that Jacob was allowed to be with Queenie alone. Nevertheless, he felt a stirring of sheer joy at the sight of Jacob’s curly hair and corpulent appearance. Thankfully, Queenie appeared in the doorway of the bedroom.

“Mr. Scamander!” she exclaimed gleefully. She clapped her hands together before taking excited little steps towards him. “Come in! You’re soaked! Long journey, I suppose. Is my sister with you?” the remarks and questions barreled into Newt like a train. He had already become accustomed to him and Tina’s simple conversations. “Ah, no, she went straight to her office to do some research.” Newt answered as he was dragged into the living area. Jacob followed closely behind him. “This Igor ‘fella doesn’t sound too savory.” said Queenie, painfully reminding Newt that she could read his thoughts. Before being forced into the nearest chair, Queenie grabbed Newt’s jacket and tossed it into the air. It glided gracefully to the fireplace, remaining stationary to dry. Newt hugged his arms around himself, feeling oddly bare. Queenie whisked away into the kitchen, leaving Jacob standing close by Newt’s seat.

“Jacob Kowalski—have we met before?” asked Jacob, holding out his hand for Newt to shake. Newt pretended not to see, choosing instead to fiddle with the golden clasp of his briefcase. “Might have.” he replied, unsure of what would be crossing the line. Clearly unsatisfied, Jacob took a seat in an armchair and began scratching the back of his neck. Newt stifled a chuckle at his friend’s rousing of memory.

The Goldstein’s apartment was just as Newt remembered it. The crackling fireplace cast a cozy glow across the room. The furniture was slightly shabby, yet still inviting in the warmth of the room. Newt expected to look up and see Tina and Queenie beside each other, maneuvering a dinner into existence. However, it was just Queenie, clad in an elegant pink dress. Newt sighed, realizing that Queenie wouldn’t release him before had dinner. Truth be told, he was feeling the effects of longstanding hunger, but he tried to keep those thoughts away.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap

Newt and Jacob both heard it. It was a small rattling noise beside Newt’s sofa. Newt inched away from the edge and anxiously peered at the armchair table. He had noticed the table when he arrived at the apartment two days earlier. It was laden with picture frames, each one containing the smiling face of either Tina or Queenie. Some of them had tall figures standing over the little girls, presumably their parents, and a few contained scenic overlooks in the background. One frame, however, caught Newt’s eye.

CRASH

Half the picture frames toppled over. Metal crashed against the wooden table and a few toppled to the floor, causing Newt to spring backwards. The noise was sure to bring the landlady storming up the stairs and Jacob seemed to know it, too. He was on his feet, shuffling towards the coat closet with a fearful expression his face. Queenie was suddenly at Newt’s side, looking as livid as Queenie could get.

“Mercy Louis!” cried Queenie. The shaking of the apartment had ceased, allowing the sound of loud footsteps to echo throughout the building. Mrs. Esposito was on her way.

“Barely anything.” Tina admitted, warily getting to her feet. Newt poured a cup of tea and slid it across the table, encouraging her with a brief glance. Tina took a thoughtful sip of the steaming brew. Newt had just returned from his forest excursion and, after discovering Smidgens’ eggs, was very concerned for the safety of the others. 

“They followed Smidgens for two weeks before capturing her. Did you see them while you were watching her?” Tina inquired. “They knew where she was for two weeks? They waited that long?” Newt ignored Tina’s question by presenting two of his own, confusion crimping his face. He didn’t wait for an answer. He set down Smidgens’ papers and covered the wooden surface with the stained sheets, scanning each one individually. Tina came to his side of the table, equaling his concentration and taking particular interest in his sketches. He thought he heard a muttering of “You’re a great artist…” but he couldn’t be sure.

“There were four eggs in total, Tina.” he muttered, tracing his finger across the trail map of Smidgens’ flight patterns. “You think someone stole them?” she queried. Newt didn’t feel the need to answer. Instead, he straightened and began pacing the length of the room, mumbling to himself. He spun around to face Tina.

“Why would they follow her for two weeks without capturing her? During those two weeks—” Newt presented a small sheet of paper from his pocket “—she had three accidents. One involved a muggle—No-Maj—, the second set a department store on fire and the third…” Newt’s voice trailed away. It was difficult to talk about Smidgens in a way that might make her disrespected. The third incident resulted in death of a young witch. After the first accident, why hadn’t they attempted to capture her to avoid more destruction?—Not to mention the great amount of Oblivation that had to be done.

“What do you know about Igor Orgnuk?” asked Newt, gaging Tina’s reaction as he spoke the name of the overseer of Smidgens’ capture. She sucked in a breath and spoke from memory. “He’s been on MACUSA’s list for years. After so many trials, we aren’t allowed to open an investigation until we receive a complaint or find evidence of foul play.” Newt rapped his knuckles against the table for a moment, considering this. “I suppose I could submit a complaint.” he said. Tina shook her head and dropped her soulful brown gaze to her feet. “Do you think Picquery will take anything you say seriously? She’ll think it’s about revenge.” said Tina truthfully. Newt turned away from her and sighed heavily. He felt as if heavy sandbags were roped to his shoulders, dragging him closer into the pit of despair. He felt useless to Smidgens and her eggs. He was sick of being targeted by authoritative figures.

“Newt?” Tina’s voice cut through Newt’s depressing thoughts. He turned to her, expecting to see a look of pity or remorse. Instead, her eyes were beaming brightly and she was standing at attention. “We should head back to New York. I’ll find out more about Orgnuk and you can take care of the egg.” Tina was desperately trying to keep Newt clinging to hope. Newt drummed his fingers on the nearest surface while contemplating this suggestion. It made sense. There was nothing more to do in the forest. “How are you feeling?” Newt inquired. Tina waved her hand dismissively. “Dizzy spells here and there, but I’ll be fine.” assured Tina.

Newt agreed to the plan and departed the workshop to do a last minute check on his creatures. Tina also wanted to change into the only extra set of clothes she had brought. Newt knew that this, the plan of heading back to New York, was all for the best, but he couldn’t help but wonder if Tina was trying to shake him off like dust from her shoes. Had she come to a decision about Newt? For once, Newt was on the verge of asking Tina outright. No, he’d wait.

Newt allowed Tina longer time to rest, claiming she needed to keep an eye on the egg. He disembarked from the briefcase and clasped it shut, trekking through the dark forest alone. It was almost sunup when he began the daylong journey to the nearest road. He hummed little tunes, thought of not-very-funny jokes and soaked in the dawn beauty of nature. While doing all these things, he was wishing that Tina was alongside him. When he caught himself thinking these things, he would perform simple spells to keep himself busy. It wasn’t until noontime that Newt allowed Tina to accompany him. He was attempting to be very cautious with her health. He had never had to take care of an ill person before and he wasn’t sure how to go about it. Luckily, Tina seemed to be on the up and up.

“You know,” began Tina, stopping Newt in his tracks. He turned around, swinging his briefcase in front him. When he caught sight of Tina, he was painfully reminded just how beautiful she was. She stood in a swath of sunshine, glowing against the dim timberland background. An abashed smile spread across Newt’s face, giving him a very dopey appearance. “This really is gorgeous land.” said Tina, affectionately patting the tree she leaned against. Newt made a noncommittal grunt and continued walking. He was having trouble focusing on much of anything. One minute he was feeling helpless and full of despair, hoping to continue onward and find out a way to find the other eggs, but the next he was unable to make a plan to save his life—err, to save the life of Smidgens’ eggs. His mother had once described such a feeling to him; he was unwilling to acknowledge the truth behind her statement.

“Have you been to the jungle before?” asked Tina, trailing closely behind Newt. “Of course! How else am I supposed to find an Acromantula?” Newt replied, casting a lopsided grin back at Tina. “Look in the book.” he added upon her inquisitive stare. To his great disbelief, Tina immediately removed his book from her pocket. He hadn’t known she was going to keep it on her person…“An Acromantula is a species of giant spider…”

The day withered away before Newt’s eyes. He had to admit, despite the ominous overhang of emotions, he had enjoyed his extended trip with Tina. They Disapparated to the MACUSA Headquarters front steps. The large, stone building came into focus after a sickening trip. Newt wasn’t as quick to relinquish Tina’s hand as he usually was, worried she might collapse. Despite looking slightly queasy, she appeared to be alright. “I’ll find out as much as I can about Igor.” Tina promised, her eyes anxiously flitting across everyone passing by the building.

“Thank you.” Newt said softly. It was an odd thing to say during the middle of their continuous plight, but he still needed to say it. After all, Tina had showed him a whole new possible side to his adventures. She gave him comradeship and lent him her energy and time—that was very important to him.

“Mrs. Esposito will still be awake, so go up the fire escape.” said Tina in a hushed tone. Newt cocked his head to one side, confused. Tina rolled her eyes in exasperation. “You can stay with Queenie. She’ll feed you properly.” Tina whispered. Newt was about to protest, seeing as he’d spend the entire night in his briefcase anyway, but Tina was already bounding up the steps. She slowed her stride to a professional looking speed walk, nodding to a wizard who departed the MACUSA building as she entered. Newt watched her disappear through the windowed doors before rousing himself into action. He checked for any Muggles on the streets before Disapparating to the front of Tina and Queenie’s apartment building.

Once his Apparation was complete, Newt realized just how high up Tina and Queenie’s apartment was. The fire escape looked in need of replacement and was sopping wet from the continuous spring rain that dripped over New York. Newt doubted he could stealthily climb the rickety structure, but he was willing to give it a chance. He quietly scampered across the street, acting as any other pedestrian would. At the last available step, he darted into the empty alleyway, directly beside the slippery ladder of metal.

It was quite the task to quietly ascend the steep steps, occasionally having to climb a ladder and throw his suitcase above his head. At last, Newt reached a dimly lit window that he believed to be the bedroom of Queenie and Tina. He stooped low beside it, peering between the streaks of rainwater. He could make out the edges of two beds on either side of the room. One was neatly organized and freshly made while the other was a mess of dresses and blankets. Newt allowed himself a brief smile before quickly rapping his knuckles against the pane. In less than a few seconds, a bright face appeared at the window. However, it was not the bouncing golden curls that Newt expected, but a round mustached face—Jacob!

The window slid open and two pudgy hands gripped Newt firmly by the shoulders, practically yanking him into the room. Newt was alarmed by the hostility in the digging fingers. He remained silent as his long body, muddy and quite smelly, reconfigured itself in the bedroom. Jacob, still short and indignant, stood before Newt with a grimace on his face. “What do you think you’re doing, mister?” the voice was meant to be a threatening growl, but it stopped short and disintegrated into surprise. Jacob’s eyes were fixed on Newt’s, remembrance stirring.

“Hello, Jacob.” Newt said awkwardly, forgetting that he wasn’t supposed to know who Jacob was. This made Jacob drop his hands from Newt’s arms and take a nervous step back. Newt wasn’t quite sure what to do. He didn’t know what Jacob recalled from their adventure together and he wasn’t certain that Jacob was allowed to be with Queenie alone. Nevertheless, he felt a stirring of sheer joy at the sight of Jacob’s curly hair and corpulent appearance. Thankfully, Queenie appeared in the doorway of the bedroom.

“Mr. Scamander!” she exclaimed gleefully. She clapped her hands together before taking excited little steps towards him. “Come in! You’re soaked! Long journey, I suppose. Is my sister with you?” the remarks and questions barreled into Newt like a train. He had already become accustomed to him and Tina’s simple conversations. “Ah, no, she went straight to her office to do some research.” Newt answered as he was dragged into the living area. Jacob followed closely behind him. “This Igor ‘fella doesn’t sound too savory.” said Queenie, painfully reminding Newt that she could read his thoughts. Before being forced into the nearest chair, Queenie grabbed Newt’s jacket and tossed it into the air. It glided gracefully to the fireplace, remaining stationary to dry. Newt hugged his arms around himself, feeling oddly bare. Queenie whisked away into the kitchen, leaving Jacob standing close by Newt’s seat.

“Jacob Kowalski—have we met before?” asked Jacob, holding out his hand for Newt to shake. Newt pretended not to see, choosing instead to fiddle with the golden clasp of his briefcase. “Might have.” he replied, unsure of what would be crossing the line. Clearly unsatisfied, Jacob took a seat in an armchair and began scratching the back of his neck. Newt stifled a chuckle at his friend’s rousing of memory.

The Goldstein’s apartment was just as Newt remembered it. The crackling fireplace cast a cozy glow across the room. The furniture was slightly shabby, yet still inviting in the warmth of the room. Newt expected to look up and see Tina and Queenie beside each other, maneuvering a dinner into existence. However, it was just Queenie, clad in an elegant pink dress. Newt sighed, realizing that Queenie wouldn’t release him before had dinner. Truth be told, he was feeling the effects of longstanding hunger, but he tried to keep those thoughts away.

_Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap_

Newt and Jacob both heard it. It was a small rattling noise beside Newt’s sofa. Newt inched away from the edge and anxiously peered at the armchair table. He had noticed the table when he arrived at the apartment two days earlier. It was laden with picture frames, each one containing the smiling face of either Tina or Queenie. Some of them had tall figures standing over the little girls, presumably their parents, and a few contained scenic overlooks in the background. One frame, however, caught Newt’s eye.

_CRASH_

Half the picture frames toppled over. Metal crashed against the wooden table and a few toppled to the floor, causing Newt to spring backwards. The noise was sure to bring the landlady storming up the stairs and Jacob seemed to know it, too. He was on his feet, shuffling towards the coat closet with a fearful expression his face. Queenie was suddenly at Newt’s side, looking as livid as Queenie could get.

“Mercy Louis!” cried Queenie. The shaking of the apartment had ceased, allowing the sound of loud footsteps to echo throughout the building. Mrs. Esposito was on her way.  



	6. The Dream Strikes Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During a break from the constant action of the Goldstein girl's apartment, Newt finds himself in a dream that terrifies him beyond belief.

Newt never really believed he’d have to be stuffed into a closet with Jacob, but once he was, he realized it was no easy task. Coats fell from hangers and shoes were crushed underfoot as Jacob and Newt stood belly-to-belly. Mrs. Esposito knocked rapidly on the apartment door. Queenie rushed to answer it.  
“Hello, Mrs. Esposito!” said Queenie pleasantly.  
“I heard a loud noise.” said a somewhat grouchy voice.   
“Oh yes, we have a nasty Boggart in the drawer of that table. It knocked over all our pictures!” said Queenie with a skillful hint of drama to her tone. Newt peered through the small crack of the closet door, daring for a peek. He could see Queenie bending down, picking up the pictures one by one. Mrs. Esposito, her back to Newt, was hovering over her. She was a short woman, slightly stout and obviously suspicious. Her wrinkled hands clung to her hips while she examined the messy floor.   
“I’ll have someone remove it, then.” said Mrs. Esposito. At that point, Newt was sure he’d be panicking, but, despite her unique personality, Queenie was as sly as a fox. She lazily assured Mrs. Esposito by saying “Tina can handle it!” and herding her landlady out the door. Newt straightened back up, inadvertently locking eyes with Jacob.   
“Who put a pool stick up her craw?” said Jacob, a goofy smile spreading across his lips as he jabbed his thumb in the direction of Mrs. Esposito. Newt didn’t understand what he meant, but he joined in the laugh.

The night passed in jovial conversation between Queenie and Jacob. It was stifling and very awkward for the third wheel (namely, Newt). Occasionally, Newt would interject a word or two before sinking farther back into his dining chair. The food was piping hot and deliciously fresh; he enjoyed every minute of it. However, after nearly two hours stationary, he excused himself from his company with the intent on checking on the dragon egg. Jacob misunderstood Newt’s standing up and immediately followed with a cigarette pack in his hand. “Do you smoke?” he asked Newt, a hopeful glint in his eye.   
“Ah, no. I have to—” Newt tossed a pleading look at Queenie who giggled in amusement “—shower. I have to shower.” said Newt. _Why would I be showering?_ Newt wasn’t very good at thinking up excuses on a dime. Jacob hadn’t asked how Queenie knew Newt and wouldn’t want to cast doubts across his mind, just in case he wasn’t yet aware that they were friends. Just friends. The two, Jacob and Queenie were very much interested in each other. That was a fact. Thankfully, Jacob simply sighed and laughed in his charismatic manner. “Me neither. My Pop gave me these for my birthday and I don’t know what to do with them.” said Jacob, motioning with his pack of cigarettes. Newt hurriedly excused himself, leaving a bewildered Jacob.

Newt felt like he was coming off a day-long rush. Every piece of furniture in his workshop looked like a cozy place to sleep. His stomach was full of delicious sustenance and the egg still appeared the same—whether that was good or bad, Newt did not know. Soon after pushing a heavy wheelbarrow into the Erumpet pen and dumping a load of smelly slop (it was her favorite), Newt collapsed onto the sofa outside his workshop. The enchanted sky glittered above his head and a heavy fog drifted across the floor. The Graphorns were moving dutifully across the horizon, the young trailing after the adults. Newt felt a stirring of pride as he watched the beasts; they were the last breeding pair in the world. Amongst all the lands that Newt held in his suitcase, connected by a series of ramps and small curtains, he felt most at home in the very heart of them. He had a worktable set up in the center where he ground herbs and sketched in his notebook. It was the place where Newt could hear the sounds of every one of his creatures and still call it peaceful.

Drowsiness swiped at Newt. He was sprawled out on the couch now, still staring dreamily at the sky. _Why does this couch smell like flowers?_ It was a question Newt never had cross his mind. He quickly remembered that Tina had been the last person to sleep on the couch. Remembering Tina, Newt felt a pang of loneliness. After all, it had been nice to have someone nearby to talk to… to look at when Newt needed advice and ideas. He rolled onto his side and allowed himself to be overcome by exhaustion. His eyes slowly shut and his brain began a reel of dreams, each one becoming more confusing than the former.

Swirling mist parted to reveal the same, fiery scene of terror that Newt had feared would infiltrate his sleep again. The bellowing of a dragon shook the ground, accompanied by flashes of flame against hex. Newt was glued to the ground again, still unable to move. He was behind the same broad-shouldered figure. This time, the details were subtly clearer. Newt could make out the shaggy head of the person in front of him, signifying clearly that it was a man. He could make out the figures of fellow wizards around him, clutching ropes and wands in their hands. It was a nightmare that wouldn’t relinquish its hold on Newt.

The image shifted—but only slightly. Newt didn’t remember taking any steps, but suddenly he was close enough to touch the man in front of him. An iron head spear materialized in the man’s hand and his breathing became labored with anticipation.

_CRASH!_

Down came the body of the giant beast, wrapped in enchanted ropes that refused to loosen. Scales clashed against bare rock and screams filled the air as a torrent of fire was spat into the distance. Wizards dropped to the ground and attempted to extinguish themselves. Despite the intensity of the situation, the man ahead showed no sign of running. Instead, he raised a large fist into the air. Action ceased. A buzzing silence filled the air. The dragon (its breed indistinguishable through the bleary trance) became unsure. It made a terrible blunder and became still, allowing its head to come in clear shot of every evildoer. Try as he might, Newt could not scream the dragon back into action. The bulky man leaned back, his muscles rippling below his arm as he readied his spear. He launched it with startling accuracy. Newt watched it whizz through the air, its shining point aimed directly for the dragon’s weakest point—its eyes.

_Thunk_

At first, Newt believed it was his sweat-soaked body that brought him from his night terror. It wasn’t until he was sitting up that he realized a figure was standing before him.

“Tina.” he said weakly, getting to his socked feet. Tina’s tired form backed away to give him space, her eyes wide with concern. Newt’s two top button to his shirt were undone and his hair felt like one giant knot. According to the sofa cushions strewn across the ground, he had been physically terrified during his unconsciousness.   
“What time is it?” asked Newt. The sun was nearly whole in the sky and the area was unusually warm. Even as Newt thought this, the temperature began to lower to adjust to his preferences.

“It’s early morning… I-I’m sorry for waking you.” said Tina, gratuitously apologizing. Newt shrugged it off and quickly returned his buttons to their rightful place. He imagined he looked quite haggard, but Tina might’ve looked worse. Instead of her usual tall self, she looked short and out of energy. She clutched a folder in her one hand and her hat in the other. Her hair was messy and shadows loomed under eyes. She was absolutely exhausted—and she did it all for the egg? She’s a criminal catcher! Of course she wants to see Igor locked away… The dream attacked Newt’s mind like a parasite. He openly flinched, but played it off as itch on the back of his neck.

The two assembled in the Goldstein kitchen, accompanied by Queenie. Tina brewed a cup of coffee for herself and a cup of tea for Newt, all while filling Queenie in on the past events. Queenie would occasionally gasp or look to Newt with admiration, to which he would shy away, but she otherwise remained wordless. Finally, after the pair seated themselves around Newt, Tina began to relay her own discoveries.  
“I wasn’t on the investigative team for Igor Orgnuk—his background goes a lot deeper than I realized. Just look!” Tina opened the folder and drew out a thick group of pages stapled together. The papers were full of typed names under the list of “Frequent Contacts” Each one also had an updated bio next to them. Most of them were in prison. Newt scanned the names, immediately recognizing a few as notorious beast breeders.   
“He’s been abroad for years, but he’s originally from the Soviet Union.” Tina revealed yet another page, this time listing the known locations of Igor during his travels. Newt stood and began to pace the apartment while listening. His mind was focused heavily on Smidgens, but his train of thought was successfully broken by the reappearance of a picture frame. Its contents played in a never ending loop. Tina and Queenie stood shoulder to shoulder, young in the face, but still bright in the eyes. The significance of the picture belonged to that of a boy. He stood closely at Tina’s side—very closely.

“Newt?” Tina called from the kitchen. He redeployed himself to the case.

“There’s a pattern here.” Newt announced, approaching the table and running his finger across the locations on the map. “He’s visited all the places where dragons have habitats.” To this, Queenie sighed and shook her head in dismay. “Well, we already know he’s a well-known dragon hunter.” Yes, this was true, but there was still something more. Newt remained silent while Tina flipped through other papers, shooting off exclamations at the size. Newt looked up at the two, suddenly asking “What if he’s doing more than hunting the dragons? What if he’s hunting their eggs and illegally trading them on the side?” Tina and Queenie exchanged a brief look of suspicion before they both nodded at each other. Sister ESP, Newt thought with amusement.   
“It makes sense, but how would we prove it?” said Tina. Newt leaned back in his chair and idly fingered the leather handle of his suitcase. A creature or two rattled around inside, but he paid no attention to them. There was a piece of evidence lurking somewhere… he could almost grab it…

“Do you have a full list of all the dragon he’s hunted? If we were to prove they all had eggs…” Newt cut himself short. He barely knew that Smidgens had eggs and he considered himself a bit of an expert in that field. How were they supposed to know if dragons twenty years prior had eggs? Tina tried her best to accommodate him.   
“We do for the last five years, but any more than that is pretty spotty…” she said, tossing a terse glance at a clock on the wall. The clock chimed loudly, revealing to the apartment that is was now eight o’clock in the morning. Queenie was next to speak.   
“Well, I guess there’s only one thing to do.” she propped her chin on her hands and looked to Newt and Tina expectantly. Newt allowed his pale green gaze to connect with Tina’s poignant brown eyes. She, too, looked confused.   
“We have to find out who he sold the eggs to.” said Queenie, tugging a document loose from Tina’s grasp. It was the contact list. They’d have to comb through the entire paper. Fueled by tea, coffee and hot breakfast biscuits, the trio began their search for the possible buyer of Smidgens’ eggs.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is very much appreciated :) Stay mythical.


End file.
